


Rituals

by KaidaShade



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaidaShade/pseuds/KaidaShade
Summary: Getting Zavala to rest is difficult, but Ikora has her ways.
Relationships: Ikora Rey/Zavala
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a companion piece to The Same Old Game. I just... hmm. I love these guys.

Zavala is exhausted.

He thinks they don’t see, but Ikora and Cayde know him well, and he can’t hide the tension in his shoulders, the deepened lines under his eyes, the way he runs his hand over his face when he thinks they aren’t looking, as though he can wipe the tiredness away. In their strategic meetings he leans on the map table as he so often does, but his hands are planted wide and his elbows lock as though he fears that his legs alone would fail him. His lovers exchange a glance as he focuses on the map, and Ikora offers the barest nod in response to the silent question in Cayde’s minute frown.

The meeting ends and they disperse, Cayde trying to cover his concern with a playful joke and rapping his metal knuckles against Zavala’s armour. It’s a distraction tactic, and it gives Ikora a chance to slip away and prepare.

She has work to do, but she burns through it with the motivated efficiency of someone on a mission, and after a brief stop at her quarters she finds her way to Zavala’s office. He’s still working, but glances up as she enters, and she sees a tiny shift in his back as she approaches. Good. This is a ritual that has played out between them before, and she suspects he welcomes it. She says nothing, just approaches the desk and takes a small box from her pocket which she places before him, and then leaves. She doesn’t look back, but she hears the tiny creak of the box’s hinges, and she knows she’s won. Zavala will not relent to concerns voiced about his health, but a command, an offer to take the burden of authority from him, he will obey.

She returns to her quarters, changes into a long, lacy robe that she finds exceptionally comfortable, and settles down with a book to wait. He knows better than to keep her waiting too long, and after about twenty minutes she hears the lock on her door disengage and sets her book aside as Zavala enters. He has shed his armour already, and he looks smaller and more fragile somehow in ordinary clothes even though the thin turtleneck does little to hide his bulk. At a single raised eyebrow from her, he tugs the neck down to reveal the thin band of purple leather around his throat hidden beneath it, stark against his luminous skin.

She nods her approval and he approaches the bed, setting the now-empty box on her dressing table as he passes. It’s more for anticipation’s sake anyway, making him take the step of opening it even though he always knows exactly what she’s handed him, and what to do with it. A flick of her hand and he kneels, smooth and practised, and she slowly rises from the bed to meet him there, her fingers trailing along his jaw. He lets his head be tilted back so that she can admire the collar, his lips parting ever so slightly as her thumb brushes over them. She’ll never get tired of seeing him like this; the steadfast Vanguard Commander pliant to her every whim. He will never admit it, but she knows that authority weighs heavy on him, and if she can take that burden from him for just a few hours then she will.

“The sweater is nice, but I think I prefer you without it.” She remarks, taking a step back from him to sit on the end of the bed, "Strip for me. Take your time. You won't need your hands for anything else."

He's composed, but she sees the way the Light under his skin ripples at the suggestion. With Cayde she would make it a punishment, let him goad her into tying him up, but Zavala is different. He craves praise and the reassurance of knowing that he's doing the right thing, and to have the burden of choice placed on someone else. Which is just fine by Ikora.

He sits back on his heels and slowly pulls the turtleneck up from the bottom, stretching up as he does so that she can enjoy the sight of his toned, muscled body. His skin is flawless and unscarred as most Guardians are, but hours of wearing his armour have dug purplish marks into his skin at the edges and the light beneath has gathered there, shimmering softly. She reaches out, feels his breath hitch as her fingers brush the marks and her Light mingles with his, the cool numbness of Void soothing the discomfort. He stills just for a moment, his arms over his head tangled with his clothing and his eyes closed as he drinks in the sensation, before she hums softly at him as a reminder to continue on to his trousers.

She runs her thumb along the ‘v’ of his hip bones as the last of the fabric between them is removed, her lips curving into a smile as he shivers and closes his eyes for a moment. “Down,” she says, and instantly he is on his knees again and she can press her lips to his forehead, a gentle reward for good behaviour. The collar came with a leash, a relatively delicate gold chain that wouldn’t hold him if he resisted, but she knows he won't and she has no concerns about clipping it on for him, gently tugging him into a more involved kiss. “Good,” she smiles, watching some of the tension go out of his shoulders, “Remind me of the rules?”  
“I don’t come until you allow it,” he says, his voice low and quiet, “I tell you if I am uncomfortable.”  
“Safeword?”  
“Twilight.”  
“Good.” She kisses him again, his lips cool and prickling with the faint pins and needles sensation of the Void, then scoops a pair of leather cuffs from the sheets and stands smoothly to move behind him. He leans after her just for a moment as they part, then settles down on his knees and puts his hands loosely behind his back where she can reach them. He knows the ritual well now, and he bows his head as she touches her fingertips to the back of his neck, trailing them slowly down his spine to watch the light gather beneath them, linger for a few seconds and then fade like the tail of a tiny comet. He shivers and it ripples, scattering across his broad shoulders as she reaches his hands. His wrists are twice the size of hers but he is pliant as she wraps the cuffs around them and secures them.

He watches her every move as she returns to the bed, his eyes bright in the dim room and his focus entirely on her, just as she likes. Her hand wanders up his neck and cups his jaw, taking a moment to look him over before delicately sweeping part of the robe aside, her hand leading his eyes up her thigh as she leans back and parts her legs for him. “I’ll start with your mouth. Something easy, hmm?”

He doesn’t need her to tug on his collar to tell him what to do, but she does it anyway. Explicit permission is important with him, and the enthusiasm with which he obeys is almost as arousing as his warm breath caressing her skin as he leans in. His weight rests between her thighs and she hooks a leg over his shoulder, her own breath shuddering in a soft gasp as his tongue presses against her clit. She discovered early in their relationship that he loves to do this, and has taken advantage of that fact ever since to both of their delights. In this, at least, he never needs to second guess himself, and she is more than happy to tell him how good he is as he buries his face in her, nose nuzzled into her curls as his tongue circles, dips lower to taste her.

His eyes half-close as he focuses, shivering as she moans and digs her heel into his back as though she would ever need to try to keep him there. The praise falls from her lips, soft and breathless, and she slips back onto her elbows to give him a better angle. He does still need to breathe, after all. There’s a faint tang of ozone in the air and she realises his Light has shifted to Arc, his tongue tingling across her folds to make her arch with a sharp gasp and cling to the sheets. She wants to watch him, but it’s hard to focus when it feels like he’s taking her apart with his tongue with all the enthusiasm of a starving man presented with a feast.

Her orgasm almost sneaks up on her, another jolt of Arc making her cry out. She’s pretty sure she kicks him, but he keeps going even though he knows full well what he’s done and she has to pull him back by the collar, panting. She looks up after a moment to find his face flushed, eyes glowing brightly and his lips parted and wet, still watching her like she hung the moon in the sky. She unhooks her leg, pushes herself up and he nuzzles against her thigh, drawing a long, shuddering breath as she strokes over his head and nudges him back. Her foot slides up the inside of his thigh and she finds him hard, a quiet gasp escaping his lips before she draws away. “Wonderful, as always. But I can’t have all the fun. You’ve earned a reward.” She purrs. He leans into her touch on his face, hungry for anything she’ll give him. Perfect. She always thinks he’s handsome, but like this he has a more vulnerable kind of beauty. She wants all of him, and she intends to get it.

She stands, giving him a little space, feels the thrum of Arc in the air as she steps away. “Kneel up here, my dear. You’ve been so good, get yourself comfortable.” She says, and though he’s less graceful without the use of his hands he moves to lay on his chest on the mattress, still kneeling on the floor. She nudges his knees apart with her foot and takes a moment to appreciate the view, the gorgeous toned curve of his ass presented like a gift to her.

She waits a moment, making him anticipate her next move as she picks up something from the bed. A joint favourite toy of theirs; a long thick shaft with an angled end leading into a textured bulb, heavy in her hand as she lets him catch a glimpse of it. She catches him biting his lip, spots the slight flex of his spine as he draws a deeper breath, and has to suppress her own gasp as she slides the bulb into herself, slick with his saliva and her own arousal. It’s large, but the stem is thin and it stays in place easily as she kneels behind him, running a hand up his back to make him shiver as she lets the head of the toy brush his ass. It’s a slight stretch to grab the lube from where it had rolled under the bed, but his gasp as the toy slides between his thighs and presses against his balls for a moment is worth it. It gives her ideas, and she presses her lips between his shoulders and rolls her hips against him a little more firmly. “Maybe I’ve had a better idea…” She purrs, feeling him shiver under her and tilt his hips back to give her better access. She rewards him with another slow roll of hips, her hand trailing back down his spine so that she can slick her slim fingers and press one against his entrance. “But then, why limit myself? I could keep you here all night, couldn’t I? And you’d be so good for me, you always are.”

The light across his skin ripples as she enters him, flashes brighter as she curls her finger against his walls. He tries to bite back a groan, so she draws out and adds a second almost immediately, and that gets a sound from him. “Let me hear you, love. The walls are thick,” she promised, and the next thrust of her fingers has him gasping her name like a prayer, his deep voice making her squeeze around the toy inside her and sending a shiver up her back.

Her self-control is legendary, but this tests even her patience, especially when he squeezes his thighs around the toy and the drag of it sends ripples of pleasure through her body. Maybe it would be good to take him that way, but not tonight, not when he so clearly wants more than that. She doesn’t linger on preparing him, not when she knows just how much he can take. She doesn’t want to cause him pain tonight but he seems as impatient as she is, rocking back against her hand and burying his face in the sheets as she brushes his prostate. Who is she to deny him, when he makes such lovely sounds for her?

A little more lube just to be sure and the toy slides into him easily, pulling a deep moan from him as his hands clench in their cuffs. Ikora takes him by the hips, squeezing the strong muscle there, and rocks into him slowly. The light gathers under her palms, beautiful and otherworldly, and seems to pulse faintly in time with his heartbeat as she increases her pace and fucks him in long, steady strokes. She pulls almost entirely out of him before driving back in, thorough in her attention to him. His breathing quickens, muscles flexing as he tries not to squirm in her grasp, to stay still rather than pressing back against her, and the fact that Zavala’s iron will is so stretched is as arousing as the squeeze of her body around the toy itself. She whispers praise between panted breaths, encouraging him to move, to let her hear his pleasure, and she kisses between his shoulders and what she can reach of the back of his neck, leaves tiny lovebites lower on his back.

He holds on longer than she expects, and she almost misses it when he gasps a broken “Ikora… Ikora I…” and shudders with the effort of holding back. She pulls out and stops, the tip of the toy just resting against his entrance as she runs a hand up his ribs.  
“Close?” She asks, and he nods breathlessly, “Good. Just a little longer, I think.” She’s glad of it; she’s close again too, and she doesn’t want to push him far enough that she forces him to fail. Her hands gently move to the cuffs and she unbinds him, hears a grunt as he flexes his shoulders and she reaches up to rub them gently. “I know I said you wouldn’t need them, but I rather like your hands.” She says softly, kissing one of his palms before he moves away. “Roll over, darling, I think you’ve earned this.”

She moves away slightly and he obeys, pushing himself up onto the bed on his back. He’s flushed all the way down his chest, the light gathered where his skin touched the sheets but fading away fast, and Ikora’s arousal spikes at the sight of her fading handprints on his hips. The toy is discarded and she drops it to the floor in her haste- doesn’t matter, she can clean everything later- all she wants right now is to climb up onto the bed with him, on top of him, and kiss him. It’s demanding, rough, and he yields to her tongue and the catch of her teeth on his lower lip with eagerness, his hands coming up to hover by her waist as if asking permission. She draws back with the barest of nods and those strong, callused hands are on her, thumbs caressing the bottom of her ribcage. One final kiss and she sits back, her eyes dark with desire where his are unnaturally bright.

It’s the work of a moment to guide him inside of her, and she lets her head fall back and her fingers curl against his chest at the stretch of it. He holds her easily, supporting and letting her move as she wishes, and she’s free to set the hard, fast pace she desires. He moves with her and gasps her name as she takes him deep, and she pants praise for him between thrusts. She can feel his hands shaking with the effort of holding himself back, squeezing at her waist, and there’s a breath of a word that might have been ‘please’ but she can’t tell for sure, the pounding of her heart too loud in her ears as she drives herself towards completion.

Mercifully, she’s already so wound up that it doesn’t take long for her to feel the edge of the precipice approach, and she leans forward to change the angle and gasps as her hands land either side of his head. “Come for me, darling.” She gasps, her body squeezing down on him and shuddering as climax hits her, her knees turning to jelly as he rocks up into her one final time. He’s so obedient, so good, and she feels his moan and the tingle of Arc across her skin everywhere they touch as much as she hears it. She nuzzles into his neck and his arms wrap around her, holding her like his life depends on it as they both ride out the wave of pleasure and slowly come back to reality. They’re both sweaty, the lacy robe sticking to their skin where it’s spread over them, but Ikora can’t bring herself to care as she cups his cheek and kisses him tenderly. He returns it, his eyes dim and soft, and she lets it linger while she trails her hand down to free him from the collar.

“Okay?” She asks as she lets him go, offering one last kiss as she rolls off to lay next to him. He makes an inarticulate noise, then clears his throat and tries again.  
“Wonderful.” He replies, a little hoarse but deep and content and gorgeous to listen to. She should make him talk dirty to her, she thinks idly, but not tonight.  
“Yes, you are.” She teases instead, enjoying how the light gathers in his cheeks. Awoken do blush, and she’s seen it, but this is more subtle and just as delightful, “Now that you’re in bed, though, you should get some sleep.”  
“Was this all a ploy to get me to rest, Ikora?” He frowns at her, but there’s a playful smile quirking the corners of his lips and he doesn’t resist when she reaches over to pull the blankets over him.  
“Not at all. It was a ploy to get you in bed with me, and here we are.” She settles in and he gives a quiet huff of a laugh, letting her cuddle him to her chest with a soft sigh.  
“Alright. You win.”  
“Good. I’ll be here when you wake, I promise. Cayde is on duty, he’ll tell us if there’s an emergency.”  
He hums acknowledgement, but he’s already half asleep. Just as she expected; it’s his one weakness that he just can’t stay awake once she’s had her way with him, and it leaves her free to stroke his back and watch over him until he dozes off. Just before he does, she catches a tiny breath of words against her skin.

“I love you, Ikora.”


End file.
